Drawn Together
by Rointheta
Summary: The Doctor and Rose accidentally land on a planet where outsiders are killed on sight. The people living there are born with intricate patterns covering most of their skin, and Rose and the Doctor have to paint each other to fit in so they can make their way back to the TARDIS.
1. Canvas

_This is the twenty fourth fic in my 2013 Advent Calendar!_

**Note**: This is edited from an MA rating to the M that fits this site. For unedited, well not smut just yet, but smutty thoughts, this story is available on teaspoon, ao3, and tumblr.

**prompt**: "The Doctor and Rose end up on a planet where people have intricate patterns on their skin (not tattoos, their actual skin) and the Doctor must paint them on Rose before they go explore."  
**prompter**: fadewithfury/foxmoon  
**beta**: resile

* * *

**DRAWN TOGETHER  
**_Chapter 1 - Canvas_

* * *

Rose bit back a yelp when the Doctor grabbed her around the waist and pulled her behind a few bushes, tugging her down on the soft grass. He whispered something about guards in her ear and she lay silent, listening to the sounds of feet moving over the ground to distract her from the feeling of him pressed up against her. His fingers wrapped around her wrist and he lifted her hand, pointing to the left at a cottage with an overgrown garden.

"There. See that?" he whispered and she nodded. "Think it's safe to assume it's abandoned. On my command, run there as fast as you can." She stiffened and he hugged her closer. "I'll be right behind you, Rose. All right?" She nodded again. "Good. Can't count on the door being unlocked and there's no time for sonicking, so run behind the cottage. Okay, go!"

Head ducked, she sprinted the short distance, rounded a corner, and pressed herself against the wall, shimmying until she reached the the back of the cottage. A ladder led up to a cracked open window in the attic, and they climbed up and in. Rose brushed off some cobwebs clinging to her face, hair, and body, and walked further into the room, inspecting the floorboards with each step. They creaked a bit, but felt secure enough, so she relaxed and turned around to face the Doctor.

"All right. What was this all about, then?"

"Yeah… I've landed us on the wrong planet."

"Oh, what a surprise."

"Oi! Doesn't happen that often?"

She chuckled. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that."

"Anyway," he said, giving her a firm look. "We're on Iscall Alpha, not Iscall Beta. Nearly identical planets. Easy mistake to make."

"But?"

"There used to be two people on this planet: the Nimilin and the Qurash. Until the Nimilin decided to do a bit of ethnic cleansing–"

"What?!"

"Yeah. The Qurash look like humans. A few different things on the inside, but externally, completely human looking. The Nimilin, however, have patterned skin. They claim to have been touched by their god and that the Qurash were an abomination. Those guards were Nimilin, and they wouldn't have captured us, Rose. They would've…" He paused, dimples forming in his cheeks. "They would've killed us. Right on the spot."

"Oh, god. What about the Qurash? Are they all…?"

"No! A lot of them fled. Not off-world, 'cause the people on this planet don't have that kind of technology. But they've fled to islands. Alive and well. Many of them at least. See, the Nimilin fear water. Well, bodies of water. We can't just throw a glass of water on them and off we go."

"What can we do, then?"

"There's a recipe for a paste I can paint my body with. It's something the Qurash used at first, but the Nimilin quickly caught on since it came off with a little soap and water. So I need to make it less temporary and more… Well, not permanent, but something a bit more lasting."

"Like henna tattoos?"

"Yes, exactly. I have a setting on the sonic. It'll set the paint, make it more henna-like, if you will. So, you'll stay here, I'll go out and gather the roots needed, and then we'll paint my body."

"Okay, good." She frowned. "No, not good. Why just your body?"

"Because I'll run back to the TARDIS whilst you stay here."

"No."

"Yes! I'll bring her right here, five minutes after I leave the cottage."

"No. You landed us on the wrong planet, Doctor. You really think I'm gonna trust you to be here at the right time? 'Cause I don't! You're not leaving me behind!"

"But…" He swallowed, lips moving for a few seconds. "I'll have to paint your body."

"Yeah, so?"

"Your naked body."

"Oh," she said, a jolt hitting her deep in her stomach. "How naked?"

"Eer. We look unusual. The colour combinations of our skin, eyes and hair are uncommon. So, if anyone sees us on our way back, they will be suspicious. The regular procedure is to toss the captives into a shower room and scrub them clean. If we don't have these patterns all over…"

"Oh. So completely naked, then?"

"Not on your face, ears or throat. And not under… Well, not your scalp or…" He gestured around his crotch. "Eeh, nowhere where there's thick hair...growth. Or do you…? Ehm, I know some human women of your time… Well, you know, do...removal."

"Oh!" Her face heated up and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, fiddling with her earring. "No. Not really had a reason to, have I?"

"Oh. Well, that's a relief!"

"Uhm…yeah?"

"Yes. Because," he said, tugging at his earlobe. "That's not a thing...here. So, they'd be suspicious. If they were to catch us and-and strip us and… Yes! Soles and palms completely covered. With paint. Not even patterns. Just a solid coat of paint. And…" He furrowed his brow and swallowed, pacing the room as he talked. "I'll have to use my fingers. For the best result. No brush strokes. Then we'll fix the patterns with the sonic. Set the paint. And we need different clothes. Can't wear these. Hopefully, we'll find something in here. Something that's not completely moth-eaten. And when I say completely, I mean completely. You should see the size of moths on this planet. Like kittens! Fluffy, baby kittens. They even purr! Eugh." He shuddered. "But that's nothing compared to the moths on–

"Doctor."

"Right. Eeer… Where was I? Oh, right. Last of all, we'll have to cover our whole soles and palms, so we'll have to sit down, feet propped up. We'll do that for last. Oh, and we'll set the paint with the sonic, make the patterns semi-permanent."

"Uhm…Yeah, you said." Her palms felt sweaty and she wiped her hands on her jeans, worrying her lip. "That's all right. Right? No problem. I'm not really shy. Are you shy?"

He stopped moving about the room, staring at her. "What?"

"Uhm… Shy. Are you shy? I mean, I've…" She shrugged. "S'not too bad. I'm more worried that I'll muck up painting the patterns."

His tense expression relaxed into a smile and he chuckled. "You'll do fine. I've seen you draw. I have a pen and paper in my pocket, so I'll make you a template for my back and, well, the, ehm, the places I can't reach on-on my own body. And…" He rubbed his jaw, eyes directed out the dirty window. "It would be best if I– Well, every minute we spend here… I should already be out there gathering what we need."

"The more you draw on my body, the quicker it will be?"

"Yeah."

She walked up to him and placed her hand on his arm, stroking him with her thumb. "S'all right. I don't mind. Besides, you're my doctor. You've seen most of me already."

"Not like this," he said on an exhale.

"S'all right. Go on, then. Get out there and find what we need. I'll search the cottage for clothes and clean up a bit."

"Rose?" he said, turning to look at her.

"Yeah?"

He held her eye for a moment, brows drawn together, mouth curled up, and took her hand, squeezing it. "I'll be right back."

* * *

.

* * *

Rose sat by the kitchen table, elbows on the tabletop, chin resting in her hands, and watched the Doctor grind the ingredients together in a small stone mortar. He transferred the fine powder into a larger bowl and pulled out a vial from his pocket, dripping a few drops into the bowl.

"Water," he said, stirring the mixture with a whisk they'd found in a drawer.

She picked up the bucket of water they'd taken from the well in the garden and poured it into the bowl in a steady trickle until the Doctor held up his hand gesturing her to stop.

"There. Perfect." He stood up with a sigh. "Now. Who goes first?"

"If you go first, I'll study your drawing," she said, grabbing the paper from the table. "And then I'll do your back and wherever else you need me to, yeah?"

"Yep."

She smiled and turned around to give him privacy, studying the swirls and loops on the paper, listening to the rustling of clothes as he undressed.

"Rose? You-you should probably watch me."

"What?"

"No, I mean. If we paint together. You watch me and-and paint yourself at the same time. If I start with my left arm, you can do the same with yours. Ehm… Some of the, er, the patterns are the same for males and females. There's a bit on the stomach and on the arm and–"

"Uhm… Doctor? I, uhm, I know I can do your back. I can. I can draw. But… It'll be up-side-down and reversed, won't it? For me, I mean. If I paint myself. I'm just scared I'll muck it up, all right?"

"You'd prefer me to paint all of you?"

She flushed, heat prickling her cheeks. "Well, yeah. Or dunno. I… It'll go faster, right? 'Cause you won't have to walk me through it. We won't have to wait whilst I wash off my mistakes and go again."

"Right."

"So, yeah. Yeah, I'd prefer that. I mean, if that's all right with you."

"'Course it is. But… Rose, are you sure about this? If you let me get the TARDIS, I promise I won't land–"

"Please don't leave me behind," she said, turning around. He hadn't covered himself up, but she resisted the urge to let her eyes drop. "Even If you're just one minute too late, if they find me… You can't go back, can you?"

"No."

"Don't leave me."

He gave her a curt nod and dipped his fingers into the bowl to begin painting himself, the earthy, flowery scent of the ground up roots filling the room. She went back to studying the paper with a sense of calm that surprised her, but the longer she stood there, the more her pulse quickened and, by the time he called for her to start on his back, her stomach flipflopped, her heart pounded, and her hands trembled. She stuck the paper between her lips and tightened her hands into fists, stretched out her fingers, and clenched them again, three-four times, before taking a deep breath and turning to face him, paper in hand.

He stood with his hands covering his crotch this time and she took in his form, her eyes following the intricate pattern decorating his body.

"You've done this before, haven't you?"

"These exact patterns? Yes. Twice. Painted my body for similar reasons? This would be the thirteenth time."

"Yeah. You were quick… And you've-you've painted someone else before, too, right?"

"Yes. Rose, I'll gladly tell you everything about my previous two, and very unfortunate trips, to this planet, but right now we need to hurry up."

"Sorry. I'll do your back, then, and your bum and the back of your thighs, right?"

"Right. And the insides of my arms. Can do it myself, but it's awkward. Don't want to smudge it. And then you need to sonic me." He turned his back to her. "Whenever you're ready."

He'd made a clear template and she had no problem painting his back: swirls with petal-like shapes over his shoulder blades, a vine climbing up his spine, and irregular spots all over his flanks. She bit her lip as she reached his backside, hesitating for a second before she began drawing the thick diagonal stripes across his buttocks. He shivered whenever she grazed his cleft and the crease between his bum and upper thighs, skin prickling into goosebumps. After painting the circles and lines over his thighs, and the long narrow trails from his armpits to his wrists, she stepped away from him and surveyed her work, comparing it to the template.

"Looks good," she said. "Wish we'd found a mirror in this place so you could see for yourself."

"I trust you. Right now the paste is, well, pinkish. See these," he said, pointing at his outstretched arm. "I've sonicked these and they're dark brown. So...yep. Sonic the paint until it's dark brown."

"Right. No problem," she said, grabbing the sonic from the table.

She turned it on and followed the patterns with it, watching it dry, darken and crackle. He shuddered at the same places as when she'd painted him and worry looped in her chest at how her body would react to the same treatment.

"'Kay. I'm done."

"Thank you. Ehm, I still need to let this sit for a few minutes. Can't...risk mucking it up. Where did you put the clothes?"

"Table."

"Right. I knew that. Ehm… Yes. Can you pick out the skirt– Well, I say skirt, but it's more of a kilt. Well, I say kilt... It's called a tsemun on this planet, but that's neither here nor there. I need the brown one, with the, ehm, the yellow plaid-type...hem? Edge? Border?" He turned his head to look over her shoulder, watching her hold up a skirt in each hand. "Yes, the left one," he said, turning back. "We're in the servant caste. The other one's for the merchant caste. Think this used to be a holiday cottage. Too posh to belong to farmers. Anyway, it's better that we're servants. Less conspicuous. No one cares about servants. And the, ehm, the matching...shrug, I suppose I should call it. For me. To wear. And shoes. Those brown lace-up boots I saw you carry earlier. Aaaand...yeah, that's it."

She blinked at the back of his head. "You're wearing a skirt, a shawl, and boots?"

"Yep."

"Then what the hell will I be wearing?"

"The same. In a smaller size, of course."

"Nothing covering my breasts?"

"Nope. Feet, ankles, bum, and shoulders. Those are considered erotic parts of the body. The rest is… No one cares about breasts here, Rose. They're just mammary glands."

She shrugged. "Doesn't bother me. S'not like I've never been to a topless beach before."

He paused. "Right..."

"And I'm sure you'll make your outfit work."

"Oh, certainly. I look good in anything! This is a very handsome body."

She laughed. "Yeah. Your old one wasn't too shabby either, though. Is that… Is it like… I mean, are you born with that ability? Like you're, uhm…pre-preordained to be good-looking every regeneration."

"No, not at all, but I've had my regenerations. Oh, you would've loved my eighth, Rose. Very pretty. And then there have been a few…" He chuckled. "Well, let's just say I've not always been this dashing."

"How's that feel, then? To be pretty all of a sudden."

"I don't really find it important, Rose."

She snickered. "Yeah, right. Is that why you point it out all time time?"

"Oi!"

"Oh, c'mon. Just admit it. You're really pleased that you look so good."

"Well…" He sniffed. "It has its advantages."

"The way you talk about it... It's like a suit for you, innit? Smart and tailor-made one day, something naff you found in a flea market the other. Doesn't matter, 'cause you're never your suit."

"Well, the suit doesn't make the man, does it?

"No."

"Hold on." He looked over his shoulder again, waggling his eyebrows. "You just said you think I'm attractive!"

"No, I didn't. I said that you're pretty. And you are. I'm not blind, Doctor. Besides, it's not like it's a secret, is it? Cassandra kinda outed me, didn't she?"

"Oh…" He turned back. "I thought she was just–" He poked at the paint on his arm. "Ah. I think I'm good to go. Ehm… Right. I need to wash this off. Ehm… Reckon it's better if we paint you first. Just in case we need to leg it. And then we'll find some way to take a bath. So, ehm, well, strip?"

"Yeah, I'm– Sure, yeah."

She nodded to herself, butterflies returning to her stomach as she stood on wobbly legs, undressing herself with trembling fingers. Through the corner of her eye she saw him snatch one of the finer kilts from the table and heard him put it on.

"I've covered myself up a bit. Eer, and you can always keep your knickers on for as long as possible," he said, just as she stepped out of them.

"Uhm… No. I'm all right. If you're all right."

"Yep."

"'Kay. Front or back first?"

"Well," he said and cleared his throat, "whatever is more comfortable for you. But… It's easier for me to do from top to bottom. Just work myself around and downwards."

"Right. That's okay."

"Okay. I'll turn around now."

"Yeah."

"And if you feel uncomfortable, if you change your mind, if…anything. Just tell me and I'll stop."

She smiled. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Your hair. Can you tie it up?"

"Oh! Yeah." She rummaged through the pile of clothing on the table, found a silk ribbon, and fixed her hair in a high ponytail. "'Kay. I'm ready."

"Right. I'll start with your arms so they can dry whilst I do you." His Adam's apple bobbed, eyes round. "Er, the rest of you. Your body. Whilst I paint your body."

"Yeah." She holds her arms straight out from her body. "Go ahead."

He started with the fingers of her left hand and drew his way around and along the length of her arm, across her chest, following her collarbones, and down the other arm. He picked up the sonic and set the paint, the vibrations tingling in her skin, the drying paint tightening it, and she breathed out a content sigh.

"Your arms still need a few minutes, so keep holding them up. I'll do your neck now, then your back and front. Is that all right?"

"Yeah."

He ran his fingers down her neck, pressing his fingertips in dots along her spine, fanning them out into a broader pattern until he reached her dimples of Venus. He circled them before dipping all his fingers in paint and dragging them in one smooth, quick movement up her back to her shoulders. He filled the empty spaces with swirls, hands taking care of either side of her body at the same time, and she bit her lip not to giggle as his touches tickled.

"Turn around, please."

She held her breath when she turned around, keeping her eyes on a spot on the wall rather than meeting his.

"I will...touch your…" he said and she released her breath in a 'yeah'. "Is that all right?"

"Honestly, Doctor." She turned her head and looked him in the eye, stunned for a second when she found him wearing glasses. She shook her head. "You don't have to ask me all the bloody time. It's okay. Touch me wherever you need to, all right?"

"I'm sorry."

He swallowed and ducked his head and her heart clenched at his reaction.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Doctor." She grinned from ear to ear. "I would hug you, but I'm not allowed to move my arms."

He smiled back and nodded, dipping his fingers in the paint and pressing them together before touching her breastbone and creating a cluster of dots. His tongue curled over his teeth, touching his top lip, and his specs had slipped down the bridge of his nose as he focussed on his task. Her eyes darted between his face and his fingers making a snowflake around the spot on her chest, inching closer to her nipples. When he brushed over them, sweeping his fingers over the swells of her breasts with quick, sure movements, she had to bite the insides of her cheeks and force her breaths steady. Her heart hammered in her chest, blood roared in her ears, but he looked unaffected, concentrating on his job rather than her physical reaction, and she exhaled in both annoyance and relief.

"Lift your arms."

She pursed her lips at his sober tone and stretched her arms up, failing to suppress a shiver when he dotted the undersides of her breasts and the stretch of skin below. He grabbed the sonic again, moving it over her upper chest.

"I'm so sorry, Rose. You'll have to stand with your arms up for a little while longer. I…" He sighed and lifted his hand as if to rub his eyes under his glasses, tightening his fist in frustration and letting it drop again. "I should've done your breasts right after your arms, but I… Well, I didn't think. I didn't know what they looked like. Obviously. So I didn't–"

"It's okay. I can do it. I can hold my arms up for a few minutes."

"Good," he said, hovering the sonic at the mark between her breasts.

"I'll just pretend that I'm competing in gymnastics and am about to make a–" She had to swallow a moan when the Doctor ran the sonic over the sensitive parts of her breasts, the vibrations puckering her nipples, sending pleasure in waves through her body. She ground her teeth together and pictured a Dalek inside its metal casing, stretching her body further when he moved to the undersides of her breasts.

"There. I'll tell you when you can drop your arms," he said, scooping up more paint to decorate her stomach.

She scrunched up her face, stifling laughter, when he adorned her ribs with tiny petals, and she took short, shallow breaths when he drew circles around her belly button. When he reached the dips where her hips and torso met, she couldn't help but draw in a sharp breath at the shivers running straight from his fingertips to her core.

"Rose, I know it tickles, but please don't suck in your stomach when I paint," he said, making lines across her hipbones.

"Yeah." It came out more like a croak and she cleared her throat. "No problem."

His fingers danced along the skin right above her curls, moved in dots down her bikini line, and she made the mistake of casting a glance at what he was doing, flushing at the sight of his head hovering right in front of her sex. He squinted in concentration, tongue peeking out, and she imagined him moving in closer to breathe her in before tasting her. A slight throbbing started up between her legs. She clenched her leg muscles to fight the need to squirm and rub her thighs together, inhaling through her nose, exhaling in a slow stream through her mouth.

"Rose, spread your legs."

"What?"

"Widen your stance a bit, please. I need to reach the insides of your thighs."

She hummed something and scooted her feet farther apart.

"A little more. I need room."

"Right. Would it be easier if I put one leg up on a chair?"

He looked up at her, eyes dark and hooded, dimples forming deep shadows in his tense face.

She let out an airy laugh, averting her eyes. "Yeah. Maybe not. I'm sorry. I'm nervous," she said, moving her feet again.

"Perfect. Stand still please." He paused, hand lifted and ready, but not yet touching her. "If you feel uncomfort–"

"Just do it."

He nodded and she closed her eyes, feeling his warm breath hitting her skin, his cool finger tip drawing a delicate pattern on the inside of her thigh. Now and then he brushed against her curls, tickling her, heightening the sensation pulsing in her core, and she felt herself grow wet. She tried to will forward images of Daleks again, but couldn't see anything other than the Doctor burying his face in between her legs. She held back a whimper, cursing her hormone addled mind for being so intent on conjuring up fantasies of–

"Rose."

The sound of his curt voice washed through her and sobered her, as though someone had tossed her into an ice cold mountain stream. Could a touch telepath read her mind without her noticing? Did he know what went through her head? Shame heated up her face, scorched her ears, but she dared herself to look at him. He sat crouched in front of her with his head turned to the right, eyes closed, mouth a thin line, chest still, and arms hanging by his sides. Hers burned from the effort of holding them up, but she pushed the pain to the back of her mind.

"Doctor?"

"I'm sorry."

He turned his head back and started painting again, movements short and sharp. He moved down her legs, drew swirls on her feet, lines on her toes, told her to turn around, and she heard the soft swish of fabric as he stood. He sketched on her bum without pausing until he reached the crease where her thighs began.

"I need to draw straight lines here. Can you… Ehm. Bend over a bit for me, please. Just a little."

"Uhm, can I put my hands down, then?"

"What? Oh. Yes. Yep. I'm sorry."

She grabbed the backrest of the chair in front of her and leaned forward a fraction. "Is this enough?"

He hummed and she felt him draw lines over the top part of the back of her thighs, and circles and thicker stripes along the rest of her legs. She heard the buzzing of the sonic again and closed her eyes, stiffening when he reached the cleft of her arse and she felt the vibrations travelling to her center and relighting the fire coiling in her. Her eyes widened when her inner muscles clenched out of instinct, and she gripped the chair harder, fingers curling into the soft wood.

"You have to stand like that for a few minutes. Bent like that."

"Mhm."

He sonicked the rest of her and, once she could stand up straight again, she wrapped a towel around herself and they painted their palms and soles, sitting down beside each other on the kitchen sofa and waiting for them to dry. She couldn't think of anything to say, and he stayed silent, so she leaned her head back and relaxed, letting herself doze off.

She woke up a moment later by the Doctor shaking her shoulder.

"What?"

"Guards are coming our way. We need to grab our things, the clothes we need and get out of here." He touched her arm and brushed off some of the paint flakes, looking up at her with serious eyes. "They can't see us like this. They'll kill us."

* * *

**tbc**


	2. Composure

**Note**: This is edited from an MA rating to the M that fits this site, but for this chapter there's barely any difference. For unedited, well not smut just yet, but smutty thoughts, this story is available on teaspoon, ao3, and tumblr.  
**Beta**: resile

* * *

**DRAWN TOGETHER  
**_Chapter 2 - Composure_

* * *

They flew up the stairs to the attic and stopped dead when they heard the door to the cottage open. Rose shook her head, looking at the Doctor for an answer; he looked everywhere else, eyes flickering around the dusty room until they landed on a sturdy armoire.

"There."

He threw in their bundle of clothes and placed the things they'd used for the paint on the floor before grabbing Rose's arm. Her towel nearly slid open and she clutched it to her chest as he pushed her inside. Several thick coats enveloped her, tickling her shoulders and ears, and the sharp corners of boxes dug into her shins and calves. She sucked in a sharp breath of surprise when he squeezed himself into the tiny spot left, pressing her up against the wall to fit, crushing her hands between their bodies. She slid them up his chest and looped them around his neck, squirming to find a position where nothing hard poked her anywhere. She couldn't hold back a giggle at that thought.

"Shhh!"

She pressed her lips together and stood silent for a long moment, not realising her fingers were toying with the hair at his neck until he shivered. She stilled, tightening her fists before relaxing her hands.

"Can you hear them?" he whispered in her ear, mouth so close his lips brushed against her skin.

"No."

"Good, because that means they can't hear us."

"Can you hear them?"

"Of course."

"Yeah. 'Course," she said, rolling her eyes. "What are they doing, then?"

"Hold on." He sniffed and leaned farther forward, nudging his nose against her shoulder. "Sorry. These fur coats tickle my nose."

"So you wiped your nose on my shoulder? Charming."

"I didn't wipe it. I just used your shoulder to scratch the itch. Not sure I can reach my nose without causing things to crash. My hands are stuck."

"Mhm."

"Anyway. It'll rain tonight and the people who–" He paused. "Five. Yes, five people. They're at the top of the chain of command, and they're staying for the night. The rest of them are spread out in the area, under tents."

"Does that mean what I think it means?"

"That depends entirely on what you think it means."

She gave him a soft whack on the back of his head. "Just tell me."

"We can't leave until they've fallen asleep. They're not in a hostile area, so they won't have guards at the door. The legions outside are more than enough."

"But how are we supposed to sneak past the legions?"

"Yeah..."

"Then what…? We can't stand in this wardrobe all night."

"Most cottages have a servants' quarters in a separate building. Barely bigger than a shed. I didn't see one when we were outside, but I suspect it's on the opposite side of where we came. We could sneak out after nightfall and get in there. The hedges should provide enough cover and we should be able to bring in water from the well to wash ourselves. Oh, and I have a container of drinking water and some fruit in my trouser pocket. Can't send you to bed on an empty stomach, can I?" he said, voice warm as though he were smiling.

"But what if they check the shed?"

"They wouldn't. No one cares about servants, Rose. And no one would stoop so low as to stay in a shed. If they're high-born enough to seek shelter in a proper building, they'll use the main house. As long as we're quiet and quick, and don't use any lightsource in there, everything should be fine."

"You sure?"

"No."

"Oh."

"But we need to wash. If they find us in there and we're clean we'll survive. If they find us up here, though...?"

"Gotcha. How long until nightfall?"

"Couple of hours."

"Right. Glad I don't need to wee, then. That would've been awkward."

He chuckled, then snapped forward, bent at the waist, and sneezed into her shoulder. The sudden space between them made her towel slip off her body and pool at her feet. The boxes behind him rumbled and one fell down, landing with a thud. She froze and cocked an ear, feeling his body go rigid against her. She held her breath when she heard footsteps on the stairs. Someone walked across the attic, let out a surprised sound, did something Rose couldn't discern, and left. The Doctor held his position for a moment before relaxing, and they breathed out in relief.

"He just closed the window. They didn't hear us."

"I'm naked."

She heard him swallow. "Yes."

"I don't think I can reach it. I'm– There's not really any room for me to move, is there?"

"No."

"Can you open the door?"

"Not without several boxes falling out. I'm keeping them in place with my back. The stacks sort of collapsed a bit when I sneezed. Sorry."

"I knew your big bum would get us in trouble one of these days."

"Oi! It's not big."

"Yeah, hate to break it do you, Doctor, but it's a bit big," she said and felt his posture change, his feet shuffling and his hands bumping against her hips. "Please don't tell me that you're seriously considering coping a feel of your own bum."

"I wasn't. Was just…trying to reach your towel. Reckoned I could pick it up with my toes, but… Sorry."

"That's fine. Reckon I will have embraced my inner nudist by the time this day's over. Maybe I'll start being naked at home, yeah? Or d'you think the TARDIS would mind? A starkers little human running about the place."

He let out an amused noise. "Oh, she might be a bit scandalised at first, but I'm sure she'll manage. Mind you, can get a little nippy in the console room, so you might want to keep a blanket on the jump seat."

Rose chuckled. "Yeah. Why's it always so cold in there, anyway?"

"She likes it better. The machinery tends to get quite hot."

"Oh, yeah, 'course. Didn't think of that... And what about you?"

He halted, and she bit her lip, face breaking out in a grin when she realised what he thought she'd asked. Instead of helping him by clarifying what she meant, she waited as he took several seconds to reply, listening to the sounds of his steady breaths, the faint rustle of his fingers brushing over his kilt, and the usual creaks wind and weather coaxed from old, wooden houses.

"Sorry?"

"D'you mind it?"

"I…" He cleared his throat. "What?"

"The cold. In the console room."

He exhaled in a laugh. "No. I don't mind either way. I can withstand both heat and cold rather well."

"Yeah," she said, resting her cheek against his lukewarm chest and shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "If I would've stood in here with a human bloke we'd both been feeling pretty hot by now."

"Ehm…" He breathed in, his torso expanding with air, pushing into her. "Yes. I'm regulating my-my temperature to keep us cool. Skin-to-skin contact generates more heat and it could become rather sticky if we–"

Rose muffled a laugh by burrowing her face into his chest, shoulders shaking. She felt him tilt his head down, chin brushing her hair; she tightened her arms around his neck and fought down the giggles until she only smiled. Resting her ear over his right heart, she resisted the urge to nose his skin; although, she couldn't help but breathe him in a little, and released a content sigh.

"You tired?"

"Nah, I'm all right."

"Nonsense. We were walking for hours before we got here and we have to stand for a few hours more. You even nodded off earlier."

"I'm fine, Doctor."

He snaked his arms into the minuscule gap between the wall and the small of her back, hugging her closer. She sucked in a breath, eyes widening at the feeling of her breasts crushed between their bodies, his hands curling around her sides, and the soft material of his kilt against her bare skin. Just a thin, plaid layer separating her curls from his– She exhaled in a whoosh and shuddered.

"You can lean on me, all right?" he said, voice soft.

"Mhm. Thanks."

Except him sneezing twice, neither made a sound for a long time. He didn't move a muscle; she shifted now and then, changed the angle of her head, her hands' positions. Sometimes it felt as though a tiny bug crawled over her skin but, since she could do nothing about it, she shut her eyes and enjoyed all that naked, soft skin against hers as she snuggled closer to the Doctor.

When he finally broke the silence by clearing his throat, she felt a surge of sleep wash over her and curled her fingers around his shoulders to steady herself.

"Did I fall asleep?" she asked, shaking her head to clear it.

"For a little while." He gave her a soft squeeze before releasing his hold. "It's time. They've been snoring for at least half an hour."

"How are we getting out without making a noise, then?"

"Well," he said on a deep inhale, "I hope that we'll be very, very lucky. We'll get out, toss back whatever fell out, bring our things and run straight to the servants' quarters. You'll stay in there whilst I get more water."

"And what if there isn't one?"

"There will be. Now. Are you ready?"

* * *

.

* * *

They managed to get out with minimal ruckus, cleaned up after themselves, climbed out the window and down the stairs, sprinted over to the rickety shed they found around the corner, opened the door and sneaked inside. Rose leaned her back against the wall, panting and waiting for her heart to slow down, holding a bundle of her towel and their clothes in her arms. The Doctor put down the bowl of paint and the mortar on a small counter on one side of the room and searched the cabinets under it.

"Okay. I have a bucket here. Rip a few washcloths from your towel. I'll be right back," he said and slinked out the door.

Four small windows placed high up on each wall provided her with some moonlight, and after dropping off her load in the only bed–stripped clean save a lumpy mattress–she rummaged through the cupboards to find something sharp. Dust covered the drawers and shelves, most of them empty, but she found a dull knife, got to work and had managed to create a handful of washcloths when the Doctor came back. His eyes flitted over her body in a quick, smooth movement before landing on a washstand at the foot side of the bed. He raked his fingers through his hair, cheeks darker in colour, and moved across the room.

After pouring water into the bowl of the washstand, he stuck his hand into the pile of clothes, into one of his pockets, and pulled out a hotel shampoo bottle. They washed themselves in silence, helping one another with their backs, and Rose's skin prickled at the ice cold water, at his hand on her waist that steadied her as he rubbed her skin, at the glimpses of his long, pale limbs she stole through the corner of her eye.

The effort to keep her eyes on her body instead of his held so much of her focus she barely noticed that the patterns on her thighs didn't look as dark as on her arms. She ran her fingers over her skin, following the line of her leg, over her hip and up to her ribs, and furrowed her brow when she saw that the patterns looked fainter on her stomach as well.

"Doctor?"

"Hm?"

"Did you…" She thought back, closing her eyes and groaning when she remembered how he'd hurried through the steps earlier. "You didn't sonic my front."

"What? No, I did. Your-your–" He gestured at her chest, eyes directed at the ceiling. "I remember."

"Yeah. But not my…thighs. Not my–" She swallowed. "We forgot."

"Right." He rubbed his eyes with his index finger and thumb. "Okay. I'll just do it again."

"But...it's so dark in here. You said we couldn't use a lightsource."

"Oh, that won't be a problem. I can see perfectly well in here."

"Oh," she said, ignoring how her stomach swooped. "Good."

"I'll re-paint and...set the paint and then… Then you can wash it off. You won't need to wait, since…" He sighed, cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, grabbing the bowl and crouching down in front of her. "Oh. You need to–" He grumbled something, grabbed the washcloth and finished cleaning her legs with rushed swipes, rubbing them dry with what was left of the towel. "All right. I'll just...do it the same way and...that. You know the drill," he said in a tired, curt tone, jaw so tense dimples formed in his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Doctor."

"S'not your fault, Rose," he said on a sigh, running his hand through his hair. "I forgot to sonic your– I just…" He shrugged, shaking his head.

"I insisted, though. We'd probably been out of here already if I hadn't–"

"No," he said, putting his hand on her hip, thumb rubbing circles over the bone he probably meant to be soothing, but they sent sparks of heat straight to her core. "We did the right thing. If you'd been there alone when those–" He shut his mouth, staring at his hand on her body, and his thumb stilled. "Right. Best get to it."

"Yeah," she said, spreading her legs.

"Oh, you– Oh. I'll-I'll… Ahem. I need to re-do your stomach as well. I'll start up here," he said, but didn't wait for her to stand up straight before he began retracing the petal pattern on her ribs.

She folded her arms behind her back, fingers gripping around her wrists, and stared up at the ceiling as she tried to remain unaffected by the Doctor's touches. She held her breath when he reached the dips leading down to her curls, biting her lip when he dotted the juncture between her center and her thighs, and the dull throbbing returned. Tension had crackled between them the whole afternoon and evening and now, as he moved to the inside of her thighs, she already felt swollen with need.

He moved quicker this time, with clumsier hands that tormented her with accidental brushes and nudges he didn't acknowledge with his usual apologies. She cursed them on the inside and lolled her head back to get away from the temptation of watching him and the intense expression she knew he wore; yet, unbidden images from before flashed in her mind and she worried her lip with sharp, careless teeth to hold back whimpers.

When he finally moved down her legs, she drew in a deep breath and released it with relief. The sound of rain drumming against the roof filled the shed and she smiled at the welcomed distraction. Closing her eyes, she focused on the pitter-patter and shut out the heat coiling inside her until the throbbing subsided.

The buzzing noise from the Doctor turning on the sonic screwdriver broke her concentration and she opened her eyes, clasping her hand over her mouth to hold back giggles when he started sonicking her sides and stomach.

"You can laugh all you want, Rose," he said and she looked down, finding him smiling at her. "Won't muck anything up."

She dropped her hand to her side and chuckled, squirming a little, when the Doctor continued to move the sonic over her skin. He stopped at her hipbones and, skipping her crotch, moved down to her feet and ran the gadget up her legs. He paused for a few seconds when he reached her thighs, clenching his jaw and the fist hanging by his side, and she opened her mouth to say something. Another apology or maybe suggesting she could do the rest herself, but her dry tongue wouldn't move and she couldn't get her voice to work.

His fingers tightened around the sonic and he lifted it to her lower abdomen, following the patch of skin above her curls. Her breath caught in her throat when he ran it down her bikini line and the vibrations stirred up the pleasure pulsing in her center. She couldn't tear her eyes off him, couldn't stop taking in every little change in his face, how his nostrils flared whenever a new rush of heat coursed through her, how he sucked his tongue back when he forgot himself and it peeked out through the corner of his mouth, and how the furrow between his eyebrows deepened by the second.

When he'd finished her left thigh and was moving over to her right, he forgot to angle the gadget downward and sonicked her sex, hitting her with a beam that could rival her best vibrator. Her hand shot out and grabbed his hair, fisting it, and she moaned out a curse.

They froze, sonic still buzzing at her. Her hips rocked out of reflex, breaths coming short and fast, heat prickling her cheeks and washing down to her chest, gathering in her center. He stared up at her, dark eyes glimmering, tongue darting out to wet his lips. She couldn't be sure, not in this dim light, not with the position he sat in, but the fabric of his kilt fell in such a way that he had to be hard. She met his eyes again, shivering at the hunger burning in them, at what it confirmed.

"Rose…"

She swallowed, thighs trembling. "Yeah?"

He clamped his eyes shut and released a sharp breath. "I'm sorry," he said, moving the sonic to finish her thigh.

She exhaled and let go of his hair, clasping her hands behind her back again and willing her racing pulse to calm.

Once he'd set the paint he turned around and stood up, creating distance between them by walking towards the door.

"You don't need to wait this time," he said, voice raspy. "Just...wash up."

"Yeah. Thanks," she said, grabbing a clean washcloth and dipping it in the bowl of water. She moved to a patch of light hitting the floor, using it to make sure she didn't miss a spot. "What now?"

"We'll hide our clothes and the sonic in here. Clean up a bit, and put on the-the servants' clothing and–" He sighed. "You should go to sleep."

"Okay." She grabbed the towel and dried herself. "What about you, then?"

"I'll stay up. Keep an eye on the door. I've locked it, but… Just in case."

"Yeah." She hung the towel to dry on the headboard of the bed and began rifling through the pile of clothes. They'd grabbed all of it in their haste, kilts, tiny shawls, boots, but nothing that could provide her with much coverage. Not even a simple nightgown. She sighed and went through the three kilts she'd found, holding them against the light to find the right colour, but all the earthtones blended together and she couldn't pick out the right one. "Uhm, can you help me, please? I can't see colours well enough in the dark."

"Yes." He turned around, but stopped the moment he took in her form. "You're not dressed."

Her mouth fell open, a flush creeping up her cheeks as their eyes locked and they just stared for several seconds, but then she found herself.

"Nudist, remember?" she said, grabbing the towel and holding it against her body. She cocked an eyebrow, lips quirked into a lopsided smile. "You better get used to it."

He laughed, ducking his head and shaking it. "How could I forget?"

It took him little time to find the right garments for both of them, and he turned his back to her so they could put on their kilts and shawls in private. After pulling out bottled water, two small bags of crisps, and two oranges, they tucked their things into his transdimensional coat pockets and hid his coat in a box in one of the cupboards. They pushed the bowl and bucket under the bed, and put the rest of the clothing in a drawer. The shed didn't have any chairs, nor a table, so they sat down on the bed and shared their meal, backs against the wall and legs stretched out in front of them.

"D'you think it will be easy for us to get back tomorrow?"

"I don't know. Hopefully. Probably. They aren't lingering in the area. Doesn't mean we won't run into other people who're suspicious of strangers, but… Well, we didn't run into anyone for hours when we walked around earlier. Reckon we'll be safe."

"Yeah. Good. I need to wee before I go to bed," Rose said and wiped crumbs off her lips with the back of her hand. "Can I go out, or…?"

"Nope. Use that bucket," he said, nodding at one standing in the corner of the room. "I'll cover my ears and turn my back to you."

"Yeah." She let out a breathy chuckle, but did what he'd told her. It wasn't the first time she'd had to go with him in the room, and it most likely wouldn't be the last. "'Kay, you can turn around. I'm done."

He hopped off the bed when she plopped down on it and curled up on her side, watching him lean back against the counter and slide his hands out of habit where his pockets should be. Eyebrows raised, he glanced down on his body and sighed when he saw the kilt, crossing his arms over his chest instead and staring at his feet.

"You gonna stand there all night, then?"

He nodded.

"No, you're not. C'mon." She scooted closer to the wall. "The bed's big enough for the both of us."

"I should keep an eye out."

"And you can't do that from the bed? You can at least sit down on it," she said, but he didn't move. She bit her lip, fingers twirling a strand of hair. "I'm not– The way I… I'm so sorry, Doctor. I didn't mean to grab you like that. It just felt– And my hand just..."

"I know."

"Not gonna jump you, I'm not. I'm not some, dunno…" She sighed and propped her head up in her hand, elbow sinking into the mattress. "I know you don't do that and, yeah, s'been a while for me and all, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna throw myself at you."

"I know, Rose."

The corners of his mouth turned up in a faint smile and he pushed himself off the counter, shuffling over to the bed and sitting down for a moment. He was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, shoulders raised, and she reached out to calm him with gentle strokes, but snatched her hand back before she'd touched him.

"Can we talk a little bit?" she asked. "Tell me more about the planet or something. I'm tired and all, but, dunno… Can you just…?"

She watched his tense shoulders drop down. "Yes, of course." He lifted his legs up in the bed and lay down beside her, arms folded under his head. "What do you want to know?"

"Those other people. The-the persecuted ones…"

"Qurash."

"Right. The Qurash. Can we help them in some way?"

He turned his head and looked at her, eyes warm and tender. "No, I'm afraid not. It's just one of those things. How the world works. The universe. In a few hundred years' time, a baby will be born that will become Empress of the Nimilin. She'll change things, make it possible for the Qurash to return to society, but the peace won't last for very long. The Qurash will rise to power and hunt the Nimilin. And a few centuries after that allreligion will be banned and species won't matter at all. People will worship in secret, though, and a new religion will be formed. About five centuries after the ban, that religion will become global and non-believers persecuted. This planet will have periods of peace, periods of persecution. This is the way their history is. Can't change it. We can't change any of it."

"That's awful. All that killing and for what? What's wrong with them?"

"Well…" He laughed through his nose and rolled over on his side, smiling at her. "Works like that for a lot of species, doesn't it? For your species."

"Yeah. Suppose that's true. Doesn't make it any less awful, though."

"No. No, it doesn't."

"Doctor, what happens if they come in here?"

"They really have no reason to and I've locked–"

"Please tell me."

"We've removed everything that could make them suspicious and we look like Nimilin now. So, they'd ask us why we're here and you'd let me do the talking, tell them that we've been sent here by our master to get the cottage in order, because they'd realise very soon that you're not Nimilin if you were to open your mouth." He grinned and cupped her cheek. "You'll be my mute little wife."

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Well," he said, looking up at the ceiling, tongue touching the roof of his mouth, "it would have its advantages. A pretty little thing on my arm that couldn't talk back."

She scowled at him and gave him a swat on his arm. "Yeah? Can still slap you, though."

He pouted and rubbed his arm, puppy-eyes blinking at her; she narrowed hers.

"And you know what?" She poked him in the chest. "I'd learn how to communicate telepathically–and don't say I couldn't, 'cause I promise you I'd find a way and–"

"Oh, I'm sure you would," he said through a laugh.

"Yeah, I would. And then I would be in your head all the time, I would. Talking back and filling your brain with stupid ape chatter. How'd you like that, then?"

He hummed, soft smile playing on his lips, and leaned his forehead against hers. "Oh, I don't know," he said, the tips of their noses rubbing together, "I think I'd like that very much."

Her breath hitched when he moved his lips so close she could feel heat radiating from them, and she could barely hold back a groan of disappointment when he angled his head and pressed his mouth in a soft kiss to the apple of her cheek. Curling his arm around her waist, he tugged her close and tucked her head under his chin.

"Go to sleep, Rose. We have a long walk tomorrow."

* * *

**tbc**


	3. Crash

**Note**: This is edited from an MA rating to this site's M. For graphic smut this story is available on teaspoon, ao3, and tumblr.  
**Beta**: resile

* * *

**DRAWN TOGETHER  
**_Chapter 3 - Crash_

* * *

The kilt and shawl didn't cover much of Rose's body, but that didn't mean that the Doctor had to hold her for her to keep warm. Even now, when the rain stormed outside and brought cooling winds through the cracks of the shed, she found the temperature of the planet pleasant enough. Not that she would point that out. She snaked her arm under his to wrap it around his waist, snuggling closer and rubbing her nose against his sternum. The smell of the hotel shampoo and the paint overpowered his scent, but it didn't detract from the intimacy, and she smiled into his skin.

"Can't sleep?" he whispered.

"I… Has it been long?"

"No. Twenty minutes. But you usually fall asleep faster than that."

"Oh. Yeah. I… The mattress is really uncomfortable."

"Mm." He ran his fingers up and down her spine, ghosting along her neck, brushing over her shoulders. "Does this help?"

She hummed, wave after wave of pleasure washing over her and prickling her skin. It didn't take her long to drift off.

* * *

.

* * *

High-pitched chirping and a gentle, but loud, purring noise brought Rose out of sleep. She noticed her position first, how she'd turned around during the night to be the little spoon to the Doctor's big spoon, how her legs had tangled with his, and how his hand had found its way to cup one of her breasts. His steady breaths hit the back of her head, tickling her hair, and his erection pressed into the small of her back. A thrill shot through her, looping in her stomach, and she pushed her bum out to grind against him, but then memories from yesterday flashed in her mind. He'd been affected, attracted, _tempted_, but he'd fought it. He wouldn't want this.

"Doctor?" The daylight streaming through the windows stung her eyes when she opened them, and she squinted, stretching out her body with a long yawn. "Doctor, wake up."

He tightened his hold around her, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her breast, and he moaned as he rocked his hips against her.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." She rolled her eyes and huffed, trying to get out of his embrace, but he didn't loosen his grip. "Doctor, wake up!"

He smacked his tongue and let out a soft noise from the back of his throat, nuzzling his face into her neck.

"Doctor? Are you awake?"

"Mm... Morning," he said, brushing his lips over her shoulder. "Slept well, I ho–"

He stiffened and, two seconds later, flew out of the bed. She heard him tumbling into the counter, and turned around with a gentle smile on her face to show that he hadn't made her uncomfortable.

"Doctor? Are–"

"I'm sorry."

"That's all right. Men always get, uhm…" Her eyes had drifted downwards as she spoke and she found herself staring at his erection poking out the fabric of the kilt.

He spun around, clutching the countertop, head hanging. "Yes. That's… But I touched– I'm sorry."

"Doctor, listen. You've apologised nonstop since we started with the paint and… You have nothing to apologise for, all right?"

He nodded, took a deep breath and turned back around, kilt hanging as it should, but his cheeks looked flushed and pink tinted his ears. "I can't hear anyone," he said, directing his eyes at one of the windows. "I think they've left. We overslept. It's been hours since sunrise."

"Good! We can leave, then?"

"Yep."

"Okay." She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and sat up and, although he didn't look at her, covered up her breasts with one arm. "Are you all right?"

"Yep."

"All right." She got up on her feet and looked at the corner with the bucket. "I just need to wee. Can I go out or do I have to–"

Her eyes fell on the source of the loud purring noise: an enormous, furry moth with large, spotted wings and shiny black eyes staring back at her. It opened its mouth and let out a meow, sharp, yellow teeth glinting in the daylight. Rose jumped over to the Doctor, hugging his arm close to her body.

"Look-look!"

"See? I told you they were big. Must've squeezed itself in through one of the cracks to get away from the rain."

"That thing? But it's _huge_."

He chuckled. "Mm. Huge and completely harmless. I promise you, Rose, that…" He trailed off, staring at his arm nestled between her breasts, face falling and the colour draining from it.

"You don't have a toothbrush, do you?" She let go of him and sat down on the bed again. "My mouth tastes like Slitheen farts."

His face split into a wide grin. "I do, as a matter of fact. Hold on." He knelt by the cupboard and rummaged after his coat, pulling out a toothbrush and another bottle of water, and tossing them to her. "Do your...thing," he said, gesturing at her and moving over to the moth. He scooped it into his arms, and its purrs increased when he rubbed its head. "I'll go have a look-see outside. Scope it out a bit. And let this little fellow go. Come out when you're ready to leave."

* * *

.

* * *

They left the sonic behind, but the Doctor slipped the TARDIS key into one of his boots and off they went. The legion had cleared the area, and the Doctor and Rose could walk back across the hillside to the meadow where they'd parked the time ship without feeling too stressed about running into anyone. He kept his distance at first, instead of holding her hand like he usually did, and she crossed her arms over her chest. However, the farther they walked, the more relaxed they became and soon, as they strolled under the foliage of thick tall trees to avoid the glaring midday sun, they chatted and swung their clasped hands between them.

"Will I tan in this sun, then?" Rose asked, holding out one arm for inspection.

"Yep."

"So, I'll have patterns even after we wash these off when we get back to the TARDIS."

"We both will," he said, grinning. "We'll be patterned… P–" He squinted with a thoughtful hum.  
"P...p...p..."

"Partners?" she said at the same time as he said, "Pals!"

"Yeah, pals…" She licked her lips at looked out over the approaching meadow. "That's–"

The Doctor grabbed her arm and yanked her backwards, tugging her down on the ground and rolling into the narrow space between a few bushes. She lay on her back with him half-sprawled over her, his right arm across her torso and right leg tangled between hers. He cocked his head as though he were listening for something, eyes flitting all over, and rested one finger over his lips for a second before draping his arm back over her. He'd trapped hers with his body, his hip pressing into her palm. She sighed and rested her head on the soft moss, waiting for him to explain what was going on, but he stayed silent.

Furrowing her brow, she lifted her head and took a peek around the area. Branches obstructed most of her view and she didn't see anything at first, but after shifting her position a bit to get a better look, she glimpsed something bright blue in the distance. She craned her neck, pushing herself up on one elbow, and spied out over the hillside.

"Oooh," she said, seeing the first soldiers in a long caravan, holding blue banners and marching over the grass.

They walked too far away for her to hear them talk, so they couldn't hear her or the Doctor, but had he not pulled her down with him they would've been visible without a doubt. Her whole arm buzzed from the weight of him, and she leaned back, pulling her hand free with a soft grunt, resting it on her stomach and flexing her fingers. He stiffened against her and she looked up at him to see what was wrong, only to find him _gazing _down at her, as though he'd finally become aware of how they lay.

His mouth dropped open, eyes moving over her face, drifting down to her naked chest. He slid his hand slowly from her waist, up her ribs, until his thumb rested on her breastbone and the length of his forefinger followed the underside of her left breast. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and she felt him poking her hip. Her eyes widened, searching his, but he kept staring at her chest. Everything that had happened since they stripped yesterday had her set on a hair-trigger. Her body instantly started preparing for him, blood rushing to her core; his nostrils flared and he inhaled, rocking against her once with a moan so low she just barely heard it.

An uneven breath escaped him and he jolted, eyes closed and face contorted, hand sliding off her body and digging into the ground.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Doctor," she said, voice trembling.

"No. No, it's not." He ran his hand over his face, rubbing his eyes, his jaw, leaving streaks of dirt behind. "I should have better control than this," he said in a breathy, low tone, then cleared his throat. "We have to stay here for a moment before we can run to the TARDIS. It's not far. And we have to _run_, Rose. I can hear them talking and they're–"

"Blimey, how good's your hearing, anyway?"

"They're staying in the area and, unless we want to camp out here for a few days, it's time to run for our lives in a minute. Up for it?"

She grinned, holding back the crude joke eager to burst from her lips. "Always."

"Good. And–" He shut his mouth, lips twitching, eyes averted. "And please… Just-just–" He sighed and shook his head. "I'll give you the key, so just open the door and get inside. Don't worry about me. Even if they hit me, I won't…"

"Okay."

Silence hung over them, as thick and uncomfortable as the brewing tension. They couldn't put any distance between each other, so she turned her face from him to give him privacy. She could still hear his uneven breaths, feel his hot skin and the hardness pressing into her, as though he'd fallen in too deep and no longer could control his physical reaction. She deserved a bloody gold medal for the amount of willpower she displayed by staying idle instead of pulling him atop of her and guiding him to her center. God, she couldn't wait to get back to the TARDIS and let everything return to normal.

"Okay. It's time," he said, crawling out into the open. "Run straight ahead. You'll see her after just a few minutes. Run straight ahead, open the door and jump inside." He snaked his fingers into his boot, pulled out the key and pressed it into her hand. "I'll be right behind you."

"Yeah."

"Go!"

She scrambled up on her feet and darted forward, arms swinging, and breasts bouncing in a way that had her cursing the Nimilin and their stupid wardrobe choices. She'd almost reached the TARDIS when she heard soldiers calling for her to halt. Ignoring them, she pressed on and held out the key, ready to slide it into the lock. Someone barked out another order for her to stop, or they'd shoot. Sprinting the last few metres, she barely had time to register the doors opening on their own when she heard weapons being fired and the Doctor throttled her forward. They tumbled into the time ship, the doors shutting behind them with a bang, and Rose crashed into the railings. Bouncing back into the Doctor, they fell to the floor together and her breath whooshed out of her when her back hit the grating and his body slammed into hers.

She didn't feel any pain other than in her back, and couldn't see blood anywhere, so she opened her mouth to ask him, but before she'd got a word out he captured her lips with his. His hands roamed over her body, fondling and caressing her breasts, thighs, bum, stomach, never staying still, and his mouth moved in a frenzied pace. He nibbled on her lips, caught her tongue and sucked on it until she moaned and grew wet, and he nudged her knees apart with his as he showered her face and neck with wet, open-mouthed kisses.

His fervour had her stunned for a moment, but soon she reciprocated, raking her nails down his back and angling her head to avoid smushing their noses together. She flipped up his kilt and squeezed his arse before snaking her hand in between them, grabbing him to line him up, but the moment her fingers touched his cock, he recoiled. Scrambling back, he pressed himself against the door, panting and staring at her.

"I'm sorry, Rose. I'm so, so–"

"You know what?" She sat up with a huff, shooting him a glare. "This is ridiculous. I'm going to my room for a wank and then I'm taking a shower. I suggest you do the same."

She got up without looking at him and headed straight to her room, plopping down on the bed and making herself comfortable. She didn't bother with any toys, didn't need to work herself up, only wet her fingers and moved them down her body. This would be quick.

She'd just slid two fingers of her other hand into herself when the door opened and the Doctor barged in, rushed up to her and knelt down by her bed.

"What the hell?" She grabbed her covers and pulled them over herself, cheeks burning. "Get the fuck out!"

"Rose. I don't… If I–" He exhaled a sharp breath and looked into her eyes. "For me to do…_this_ there has to be… I can't just– I have to have an emotional connection or it's not… It's not enjoyable for me. I can't do this just for pleasure. Because it wouldn't be. It wouldn't be pleasure. It's not how I function."

"Oh…" She knitted her brow, heart clenching in her chest. "You mean… You don't have that with me? I thought–"

"No! Yes! That's not– Obviously, I…" He looked down at his crotch and she fought the urge to peek over the edge of the bed for a look. "What I meant is… It has to be…" He touched his chest, pleading to her with his eyes. "I don't do casual, Rose. I just don't."

"Oooooh." A smile bloomed on her face. "You mean… Oh, you daft man. How many times do I have to tell you? You're stuck with me. I'm _never _gonna leave you. I want forever with you." She tapped his forehead with her finger. "Can you get that into your thick Time Lord skull?"

He gave her a helpless shrug, eyes searching hers, brow furrowed and mouth tense.

"Look." She cupped his cheek, stroking him with her thumb. "I love you and I want you, always have and always will, and if you feel the same I suggest you climb into bed with me. If you don't then get the hell out so I can have my orgasm, ta, 'cause I feel like I'm gonna burst any second."

He chuckled, gaze warm and sparkling, and leaned in to brush her lips with his. Her stomach swooped and she couldn't stop the soft, happy noise that escaped her throat. She reached out and grabbed his kilt, tugging at it to get him into bed. He climbed up and positioned himself between her thighs; she wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him closer, plunging her fingers into his hair and tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

Ghosting a hand up her side, he cupped her breast, and she arched into his touch when he rolled her nipple between his fingers. A moan rumbled in his chest when she nipped his jawline and kissed her way to his earlobe, sucking on it as she pulled up his kilt and rocked against his erection. She found herself close in a matter of seconds and, overcome by the need for release, she wrapped her fingers around him and rubbed it against herself. Pleasure shook her body and she released his ear, throwing her head back into the pillows, crying out when he wrapped his lips around her nipple and sucked hard.

"Close." She panted and licked her lips. "I'm–"

Touching her with his thumb instead, he sunk into her just as she came and sent her head spinning by finally filling her up. She clamped down on him, clutching at his back and digging her heels into his bum as fucked her through her climax. When the sensations became too intense to bear, she yanked his hand away, and he collapsed forward, catching himself on his forearms. He buried his face in the crook of her shoulder and nipped at her flesh. She whimpered as every gentle bite shot through her body, hitting her core, and she stretched her neck to help him reach more skin.

She angled her hips to get closer to him and tension started coiling low in her abdomen, pressure building from the inside. She licked her fingers to take care of herself but, before she'd moved them down her body, his movements grew erratic and he sought out her mouth, kissing her with hungry lips and eager tongue, moaning as his orgasm burst through him.

She clung to him, clenching her inner muscles, sucking on his tongue, his lips, pushing in her hand between them and tweaking his nipple, doing everything she could to make it better for him.

When he stilled, he took a moment–lavishing her lips and face with soft kisses, whispering beautiful words in his native language, words the time ship didn't translate, but Rose understood anyway–before pushing himself up on his hands and looking down at her with a hazy smile.

"You're an impatient little minx, you are."

"Well, yeah." She bit her lip, smiling, and ran her fingers through his soft chest hair. "I've been wet since yesterday and I was about to come when you interrupted me. Quite rude of you!"

"Well…" He beamed. "Can't help myself. I was born that way. And you're quite rude yourself, Rose Tyler. This wasn't how I'd imagine making you come for the first time."

"No?"

He closed his eyes and smelled his thumb before sticking it into his mouth, humming as he sucked off her flavour. "No. I was gonna make you come with my mouth. You smell _so_ good." Lowering himself, he licked a line along her neck and swirled his tongue around her earlobe. "I could tell, the whole time, how wet you were," he whispered and she shivered, bucking her hips in short jerks as the desire for more heightened. "You were driving me absolutely mad, Rose."

"I'm still…" She whimpered when his fingers danced up her body and circled her areaola before pinching her nipple. "Please. Lemme just clean up and you can–"

He rose and pulled out of her, cupping one hand underneath them, wiping away what he didn't catch with his other hand. "There." He broke into a grin, cleaning his hands on the sheet and scooting down her body. Spreading her open with his fingers, he breathed out in awe, then inhaled through his nose. "We smell brilliant together," he said and took a long lick. "Mm. Taste even better."

Supporting herself on her elbows and forearms, she gazed down at him with wide eyes and licked her parted, dry lips in anticipation. He growled and grabbed her hips, descending his mouth on her. She moaned and fisted the sheets, spreading her legs farther to give him room.

"Oh, _fuck_." She lifted her hips, pressing herself into his face. "Harder."

He flattened his tongue and pushed closer. Every touch had her nerve endings sparking, blazing pleasure through her body, all the way down to her toes curling against the mattress. Her arms gave out on her and she dropped back, head lolling from side to side. The sensation had her so deep in its throes she didn't notice him reaching down to stroke himself until she felt his sideburn and the slight stubble of his cheek scratching her right inner thigh, his shoulder pressing into her leg. She craned her neck and looked down at him. He was lying on his left side with his eyes closed, arm moving under him, and he was letting out hungry noises. She bit her lip, watching him for a moment. He'd seen all of her, touched all of her, and was now licking her with more passion than she'd experienced with any other bloke. She had no reason to feel shy anymore.

"Doctor?"

"Mmm," he said without looking up, without stopping.

"Lie on your back, yeah?"

He looked up then, frowning, face shining with her wetness. "Why? I'm enjoying myself very much."

"I think you'll like my idea." She smiled and moved over to give him room. "Lie down on your back, now."

He gave her a curious look, but did as she'd told him. She straddled his waist, facing the foot side of the bed, and leaned forward, scooting back until she hovered over his mouth. She grabbed him, giving him a few slow jerks, revelling of the feeling of his soft skin under her touch.

"Oooooh. Yes." He kneaded the flesh of her bum, ending it with a soft slap. "This is a brilliant idea, Rose. Gold star for you."

He pushed her down a little and resumed pleasuring her, one hand wandering up her body, finding her breast and playing with her nipple. She took him in, sliding down and humming at their tastes mingling together. She pulled back up, and down again, and he moaned against her, tickling her with the vibrations. She moaned back, pressing closer to him, and set up a quick rhythm with her mouth and hand.

When she felt the coiling inside her tighten, she let go of him and held herself upright with both hands pressing into the mattress, keening out her release with her mouth full, rubbing herself against his. Once the final wave had shuddered through her body, he slowed down, helping her land. Thighs trembling, she started working him in earnest. His breathing quickened and she relaxed her throat, keeping her head still, but her hand moving, when he lost control and started bucking into her mouth. He climaxed with a strangled groan and she started up again, head bobbing until she felt him go lax under her.

Pillowing her head on his thigh, she collapsed on top of him with a content hum. He ran his fingertips up and down her bum, tickling the sensitive skin at the crease, following the patterns he'd painted the day before.

"I think I could go to sleep like this," she said, running her fingertips along him as he softened.

He flinched and gave her bum a gentle pinch. "Stop it. I'm sensitive."

"Do we need to go back right away for our things? Can't we just, dunno, stay in bed for the rest of the day before we do anything else? Suppose we need to wash off the patterns, though…"

"I have a jacuzzi somewhere…"

"What? Like in a cupboard or something?"

He laughed, stomach moving under her. "No. Like in a proper room, set up and all. Ready for use. I can probably even find some bubbly somewhere if we want to be really clichéd."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

She pressed a kiss to his thigh. "I'd love that. If I can find the energy to–" She frowned, looking down his leg. Blood had run from his calf and pooled on her sheets. She rolled off him, landing on the floor with a grunt, and got up on her knees. "You're hurt!"

"Yeah, they shot me, the bloody bastards."

"What the hell, Doctor! You've been shot!"

"Yes, I know. I just told you. Also, I can feel it." He scrunched up his face. "Kinda hurts, come to think of it."

"But why haven't you said anything!"

He shrugged and sat up, rubbing his jaw. "Was busy. And so were you!" he said, pointing at her. "You didn't even notice!"

She grinned and tossed her hair back. "Well, I was gonna ask, but someone shoved his tongue into my mouth and it made it a bit hard."

"A bit? I'd say I was _very_ hard." He smirked. "And you _liked_ it."

"God, you're such an idiot sometimes," she said, laughing. "Infirmary?"

"Yeah, suppose that's for the best. Just a flesh wound, though. I'm fine." He jumped up on his feet, standing as steady as a tree. "See? No need to worry. With my impressive physiology and my brilliant equipment–and I'm talking about my _medical_ equipment now," he said, tilting his chin down and waggling his eyebrows, "I'll be good as new in no time!"

"Oh, my god. I've unleashed a sex pun monster," she said, proffering him her arm and smiling as he took it.

"That's not the _only_ monster you've unleashed."

She shot him a good-natured eyeroll. "C'mon, then. Let's get you patched up, funny man."

* * *

.

* * *

An hour later, after healing his leg and having a quick snack in the galley, they sat submerged in warm water and bubbles. Two glasses of champagne, a bucket with ice and the bottle, and a bowl of strawberries stood on the edge together with at least two dozen scented candles. The Doctor grabbed his glass and slung his free arm around Rose's shoulders, tugging her closer. He licked her cheek and took a sip of champagne, humming as he swished the drink around in his mouth.

"Ah!" he said after swallowing. "You really bring out the flavour of champagne." He flashed her a smarmy grin and arched an eyebrow. "Can't wait to lick you in other places and see how well _that_ goes with the champagne."

"Blimey, you're in a good mood. If I didn't know better," she said, picking a strawberry and sinking her teeth into it, chewing as she talked, "I'd think someone took pity on you and shagged you."

He harrumphed. "Pity? I happen to know you've been lusting after me for a very long time, Rose," he said and tapped his nose.

"Then why the hell did it take you so long to–" She sighed. "Doesn't matter. We're together now. That's all that matters."

He leaned his forehead against her temple, whispering into her ear, "Because I wasn't sure."

"Of me?"

"Hm… Of you, of me... Of a lot of things. Of how much I was willing to lose. To give."

"And now you are? Sure, I mean."

"Nope. Never been more afraid in my life." He nuzzled the spot under her ear and gave her a quick nip. "So you better be worth it."

She slid out from under his arm and straddled his lap, grinding against him. "I'll do my very best," she said, her lips brushing his. "And you'll do the same, yeah?"

"Mm."

"No more sending me away or leaving me behind or…"

"No." He wrapped his arms around her, pressed her close, and she felt him hardening against her. "No, you're stuck with me now, Rose Tyler. I'm never gonna leave you, and I want your forever with you."

Tears welled up in her eyes and she swallowed, hiding her face in the crook of his neck with a sniff. He pulled back a little and put his fingers under her chin, bringing her back and looking into her eyes with the softest smile on his lips.

"I'm never letting you go again. Not now. Not when we've… I couldn't."

She nodded and lifted herself up, guiding his erection to her center and sinking down. "I've never been so happy about your shitty piloting skills as now, I reckon."

He let out a hearty laugh, crinkles fanning out from his twinkling eyes. "Me neither, Rose," he said, leaning closer to her, rubbing the tip of her nose with his. "Me neither."

* * *

**the end**


End file.
